The Little Beauty
by NCR
Summary: It's two years later and Christian and Ana are extremely happy.. but also extremely baby-less. Ana has been wanting a child, much to the chagrin of Christian. However, Ana's wish comes true when a small child is left on the front step of the Grey's household. What is in store for Ana and Christian now? *I have not seen any stories on here like this-I hope this is the first one*
1. Express Delivered

I sigh.

Negative again.

I carefully place the stick back into the box and push it far down into the waste basket next to the toilet, making sure that it's hidden among the various other items in the basket.

My heart has sunk, the pain of defeat and disappointment present in my body. I long for the days that the little stick will be positive, when a little life will grow inside me.

I've stopped taking my shots. Christian doesn't know it-he would freak out. But the thing is, I'm ready for a child. I can't help but to want a little person to call my own. Someone me and Christian could dote on, could love and cherish.

Of course he doesn't see it that way. He sees children as a burden, a tragedy; but that's just too bad. It's been two years. How much time could he need?

We've traveled the world, had time to ourselves, built a healthy foundation for our relationship, our trust in each other has grown. Hell, he even stopped being so controlling. So why can't he just be ready for a child?

Maybe it's my fault. I haven't explicitly told him that I wanted to start a family, but every time I think to mention it, he does something to discourage me. The fear that he'll reject me, tell me he doesn't want a baby.. scares me. He'll be extra cautious to make sure that he doesn't impregnate me. At least doing it my way, the damage will be done and he'll just have to deal with it.

That sounds horrible, but I want this so bad.

More than anyone could ever know.

I wash my hands and exit the bathroom, going downstairs to meet Christian before we make our way to dinner. I stop in the landing before I climb the stairs, and stare longingly at the vacant room next to ours. After moving out of Escala and into the house on The Sound, I've felt even more alone and desperate for a child. Why have such a big house if there's no one to share it with? Taylor and Gail don't live with us anymore. Of course they live next door, however-Christian's control issues wouldn't allow them to go too far. But with just two people, why have five extra rooms?

I imagine little copper-haired children running around, their small bodies roaming the hallways, their giggles filling up the house. My life would be perfect if only that were more than just a dream.

Pushing my longing and depressing thoughts to the back of my mind, I saunter downstairs to meet Christian. He looks wonderful, as always. Gosh, it pisses me off sometimes how perfect he is. It's actually kind of not fair. There are people out there desperately trying to be attractive, and he's just born with it.

His black suite is ironed and impeccable, a silver tie to go along with it. It seems a little too dressy for a casual dinner in my opinion, but he looks great anyway.

"Ana, you look beautiful," he compliments.

I have half the urge to roll my eyes. All I'm wearing is a red maxi dress, light brown sandals, and my hair tied up in an artful bun. I don't see how that qualifies as "beautiful," but arguing with him would be pointless.

"Thank you, dear," I murmur as I kiss him on the cheek.

"Are you ready?" He asks. I nod my head and we make our way to the car, off to _Benihanas_.

* * *

"Oh my god, I have half the mind to go back and punch her in her crooked nose!" I grumble as we make our way out of _Benihanas_.

Our waitress was a complete bitch. She just couldn't take the hint that Christian wasn't interested. For an hour and a half, I had to deal with her failed flirtation ploys and her batting eyelashes, all while Christian just laughed at my jealousy and the waitress making a fool of herself.

I'm glad he found this ordeal entertaining.

"By all means, baby, do it. It would be quite a show," Christian murmurs with a smirk on his face.

I giggle and swat him playfully. He wraps his arm around my waist and leads us to the car.

"It's not fair, ya know. I have to deal with women throwing themselves at you everyday. You never have to go through that with me," I mutter.

"You really are obtuse, aren't you, Ana? Men ogle you every day. It's a wonder I can control my temper around them."

I shake my head but don't say anything. Men ogling me? I don't believe that for a second.

"If you say so, Christian."

"Yes, if I say so; and I'm always right. Don't forget it," he says, then swats my behind.

I yelp and lean into his embrace.

Oh, my Fifty. How much I love him.

* * *

He pushes up against me, causing my back to hit the wall. His mouth is rough and eager against mine, matching my movements against his. I wrap my arms around him, one hand getting tangled into his wild, copper locks.

His hands roam the sides of my body, landing on my behind. He gives it one rough squeeze, causing me to gasp and my breathing to accelerate.

"I can't wait to get you inside," he growls, his words igniting a fire inside my body.

I move my hands around his front, clawing at his suit jacket, just as Christian digs into his pocket and retrieves the keys. He steps away from me for a quick second, straining in the darkness for the keyhole. I kiss his neck, my mouth moving upwards, grabbing onto his ear. I tug on the lobe and Christian fumbles, dropping the keys.

"Fuck," he mutters, but his voice is muted by a loud and shrill cry.

"What the hell?" We both murmur aloud.

I squint my eyes and look at the ground on our porch. What I see takes my breath away.

Lying in front of our front door is a little baby swathed in a blanket, our house keys laying on top of it's stomach.

"Oh my god!" I exclaim, quickly scooping up the child and cradling it to my chest. "You dropped your keys on it!" I yell at Christian, slightly scolding him.

"I'm sorry, because everyone has small children lying on their porch steps!" He growls back sarcastically.

"Just open the damned door, Christian," I mumble.

He opens the door and I rush in, bringing the child upstairs to our bedroom. I turn on the lights, and unwrap the child. I have to make sure it's okay, who knows what it could've encountered while lying outside in the harsh cold for hours. As I take a look at the child, the sight takes my breath away.

This baby.. this life is so.. beautiful. It has to be a girl, its features are too feminine. Her face is chubby and cherubic, a button nose and large green eyes stare back at me. Her hair is long and curly, the brown locks arranged in a disordered mess.

"Oh my god," I whisper.

This can't be a coincidence. I've been wanting a child for so long, and then one is just express delivered to us. It must be meant to be-there's just no other logical explanation.

_Chill out, Ana! This child probably has a family, a life. She's not yours! _

I ignore my subconscious-something I do daily-and stare back affectionately at the child. She's so, so pretty. After staring for a couple more minutes, I snap out of my haze and check the rest of her body for any injuries.

Oh no.

Her chest, it's.. scarred. Small white dots adorn her undeveloped cleavage. Small white dots that I am all too familiar with.

The same ones that adorn Fifty's chest.

"Oh no," I groan.

I scoop the child up, cradling her small body to my chest once again. She smells like a baby-extremely wonderful. I breathe in her scent, closing my eyes and humming softly to her. I rub her head soothingly as I do so.

"Ana..." Christian whispers.

I open my eyes and peer at him. He looks so.. confused.

Oh. Of course. Christian isn't going to stand for this. By morning the baby will be sent off to some orphanage or to the authorities, never to be spoken of again.

"Yes, Christian?" I answer softly, still rubbing her head.

''What.. What are you doing?" He asks.

"Comforting the ba-... I'm.. I don't know," I fumble. "This baby needs help, Christian. Look at her chest," I say, turning her around so she is in Christian's direct line of sight. "Do you see this?" I question, pointing out the small round scars.

Christian blanches.

"Dear god..."

"I know. What are we gonna do?" I ask, pleadingly.

"We'll call an orphanage. Or maybe an adoption agency. I'll make sure that she finds a perfect home, Ana," he reassures me.

I shake my head sadly. I knew he would say that; but doesn't he see? She already has found a perfect home. We could be great parents, I know we could-he just isn't allowing us to be.

"Christian.. I think she already has found one." I gaze up at him, with the baby lounging in my arms. "

"Enough, Ana," he says harshly. "We don't know where this child came from, or what her background is. For all we know she has a family she belongs to. We can't, and we will not keep her."

"What sort of family would do this?!" I screech, pointing at her scares.

Christian closes his eyes and shakes his head.

"No, Ana. It's not happening."

My heart sinks for the second time today; pain, disappointment, and anger all flooding my body at once.

"Okay, Christian.." I whisper sadly. "But we can't do anything today, it's too late. We'll figure everything out tomorrow."

He nods his head.

"Thank you. You'll see that this is for the best," he says reassuringly.

He cups my cheek lovingly and strides out the room.

I take a look at the child in my arms, and as my eyes connect with hers, I know I can't let her go. I lift her up, our heads at the same level.

"Don't worry," I state. "I'm not letting anyone take you away from me."

She blinks at me, but her lips quirk up in a smile, showing a set of two perfect teeth.

* * *

_**This is my first story, so please be gentle. I hope you enjoyed it. Also, I'm aiming for weekly updates, but there may be some times that I won't be able to make that deadline.**_

_**XX**_


	2. Nicknames

**Christian POV**

* * *

My body jolts to awareness, but my eyes drag behind. I'm lying on my side, content with the warmth of the bed sheets, my eyes closed tightly.

I don't want to wake up just yet.

The sun is shining through the blinds, the glow of the pale orangey hue of the morning light reflects off my eyelids. The soft, but yet firm feel of the mattress is great for my sore back. I really must be getting old- -I'm starting to have back problems. Or maybe I'm just working too hard. Despite my aging pains, I feel utterly peaceful, the only thing I'm missing is the feel of the love of my life next to me.

I reach out my arm, trying to find Ana. A couple inches more and I reach my goal. I run my hand down the length of her arm- -My God, she feels heavenly. Her skin is decadently soft- -not that it wasn't before- -but she must be using a new moisturizer.

"Wake up, beauty," I whisper sweetly, scooping her body to the left over to where I am.

Wait. Something's not right.

Did she shrink..?

A lot..?

My eyes snap open, and instead of the blue eyes I am accustomed to waking up to, there are bright, emerald eyes staring back at me, the orbs lit up like Christmas lights.

I jolt forward, sitting straight up. The baby girl blinks at me, as if she's confused at my sudden movements.

"Ana!" I call out, since she's nowhere to be seen.

Good god, when did the baby get into the bed with us? That's highly inappropriate; Ana is giving the child a sense of security with us that she might get attached to. She can't get attached to us- -by the end of the day she'll be somewhere new. But it's also dangerous-I could've rolled over on her.

"What?" Ana asks, stepping out of the bathroom connected to the room.

"When did she get in here?" I ask brusquely, pointing at the baby.

"After you went to bed. I wasn't gonna just leave her in a dark room alone, Christian. Something could've happened," she answers nonchalantly, as if there is nothing wrong with her statement.

She pushes past me, going to pick up the little girl. She coos and tickles her, getting the baby to giggle.

What a nice sound. She's lovely, she'll be adopted in a heartbeat.

The thought gives me comfort.

"Well, you could have warned me," I grumble, scolding her lightly. "I almost had a heart attack."

"Oh, Christian, please. She's just a small little baby, she's not gonna bite," she chides, swatting me on the chest as she walks towards the door, the baby nestled on her hips. "I'm gonna go feed her, she's probably starving."

She exits the room, with me following close behind. I follow them down the stairs, perching on the bar stools as Ana races around the kitchen, looking for things appropriate to feed a small child.

I grimace at her. Ana seems way too.. attached. Protective, maybe. Or.. I don't know, caring? I care about the child's well-being too, but Ana has just taken it to a new level. It's the same way people act towards their pets when they just get them.

Suddenly, it dawns on me.

"Ana. We agreed that we're not going to keep her," I reiterate.

I scowl at what I just said. I made it sound like she's an object, easy to dispose of- -not a living, breathing human being; but Ana knows what I meant.

"I know," she echoed breezily, without a care in the world- -like we're talking about the weather, or something.

"Well, if you know that, then why are you being so attentive and clingy towards her? It's going to be harder for you when we drop her off at the adoption agency."

"Hmm, you think she'll like oatmeal?" She mutters, effectively evading my question.

"Ana, did you hear anything I just said?"

"I'll make strawberry flavored. Everyone likes strawberry oatmeal." She breezes over to me. "Here, hold her. I have to make the oatmeal," she says, before depositing the girl into my lap.

She smiles at me, her two teeth gleaming back at me.

I frown in return. How do I do this? Do I cradle her? Put her on my knee? Hold her under her arms?

I hold her up away from my body, examing the best position to put her in.

Ana sees me fumbling and rolls her eyes.

"Here, like this," she says before positioning the child so that her head is in the crook of my neck.

I grimace. My personal space is clearly being evaded, but no one seems to care.

"Ana.. Are we on the same page? I feel like you're hiding something," I muse, trying to control the squirming child in my arms.

She's so thin. I take the time to finally study her, since I didn't exactly pay that much attention to her before. She has teeth, and kids usually start growing teeth around four months. She shouldn't be this tiny. Is she eating? And the burns.. I shudder.

This child needs a safe home, and I'll make sure that's exactly what she gets.

"Alright, well Seattle has plenty of adoption agencies, but I'll make sure that Taylor finds the best one. We could take her, say, around noon? It shouldn't take more than an hour, but it could be longer depending on if we have to sign paperwork, or-"

"Give her to me," Ana blurted out, her voice harsh. "Her breakfast is ready," she adds after her I give her a look, her voice slightly softer.

She grabs the baby, the girl giving a happy coo when she is back in Ana's arm.

I run my hand over my face, confused on why Ana is acting like this, and just overall stressed over this whole situation. Who the hell left their child on my doorstep? I feel a sense of animosity towards them- -if only they would have left us alone we wouldn't be in this predicament.

I feel guilty about my thoughts, however. This child is better off here than wherever she was. Anyone who wants to burn a child with cigarettes doesn't deserve to be a parent. Where would I be if Grace had gotten annoyed when she got called in to treat me? I know for damn sure, that I wouldn't be as succesful as I am now.

I sigh. I owe this child to get her somewhere safe and loving. After all, I was once in her spot.

I glance over at Ana and the baby and they look so.. peaceful. The baby is nestled in Ana's arms, laughing and gurgling contentedly, her mouth covered in pale pink oatmeal. Ana is looking back at her in adoration, her eyes shining. She holds the spoon in the air, twisting and twirling, mimicking the sounds of an airplane.

They look like a happy family.

And here I am, on the outside looking in.

"I'm going to get ready. I think it's better if we leave early, so the process can be faster," I murmur, walking away from them quickly, dashing up the stairs. Ana gives me a confused look, but I continue on walking, ignoring her silent question. I'd never admit it, but seeing them together hurt. I'll never be able to have that; What child would ever love me? I'm lucky enough Ana even loves me. Ana wants a child, but I just can't give her that. I'm fucked up enough- -I don't need to burden a child with dealing with me and my problems. I won't taint anyone else with my past- -I've already hurt everyone close to me time and time again.

I can't do that to anyone else.

* * *

"Bbbpppppp" is the sound I hear as I enter my bedroom after my shower. Ana has the baby on the bed, lying on it's back. She laughs vicariously and her little legs kick as Ana blows raspberries onto her stomach. Ana grins back at her, enjoying this just as much as the baby.

Shouldn't Ana be getting ready? From the looks of it, she seems more preoccupied with providing free entertainment.

"Babe, we have to leave in twenty minutes. You're not even dressed yet," I murmur, my voice having a slight edge to it.

"The agency isn't going anywhere, Christian. You don't have to rush," she replies back distractedly. She can't even look away from the baby for four seconds to respond to me.

I blow out an irritated sigh and walk passed them into the closet. I look over the large selection of clothes I have, all different types of shirts, pants, jackets, and ties. Each of them different colors and shapes. I really don't know why I own them- -half of them I haven't even worn. I guess I just like to have a selection. Either way, I exit the closet with a white t-shirt and faded jeans-my usual dress-down attire.

I really need to get rid of some of these clothes. Maybe I could donate them to Goodwill. I picture a homeless man in Ralph Lauren as I ponder my idea.

At least he'll be homeless in style.

"I just want our lives to go back to normal, Ana. You know how I feel about children," I confessed quietly.

My heart broke just a smidge as I saw her face fall. I wish I could make her happy, but I just can't bring myself to have children right now. I don't know about the future, but I just can't right now.

Not even for Ana.

And there's lots of things I would do for Ana. Crazy, stupid, scary, expensive, dangerous things. But just not this.

"I know," she whispers, her face ashen.

She continues to coddle the baby, trying to retain the last little semblance of happiness she felt before I busted her bubble. I feel like an ass, but what else can I do? We're not keeping her-there's no way that we possibly could. I'm not going to give Ana false hope and allow her to get attached to that child. I just hope it's enough for her to know that I'll make sure the baby grows up happy and loved.

From the looks of it I can tell that her current situation is a mess. Ignoring the burns and abuse, she doesn't even seem to feel out of place. Most children would be whiny and scared, but she just fits right in. She isn't crying for her parents, nor does she feel scared or uncomfortable around us.

She just belongs.

Like a missing puzzle piece.

I frown at my thoughts, disturbed by the route they're taking. I shake away my peculiar musings and make work of getting dressed-even if Ana feels it's not important. The bathroom is hot and muggy, plus it's not like I'm uncomfortable with Ana seeing me exposed, so I decide to get dressed in the bedroom. As I drop my towel it is immediately followed by a shrill cry.

"Christian!" Ana exclaims, covering the baby's eyes.

"What?" I ask, confused by her actions. She's never been weirded out by my body before.

"The baby's in the room. You can't just be naked in front of her."

"She doesn't even know what she's seeing," I roll my eyes.

She can't even be a year old. She wouldn't be able to distinguish between an eye and an ass hole.

I ignore Ana's irritated grunts and continue to get dressed. As I'm done, I start pressuring Ana to get dressed too.

"You know, it's fine. Don't get ready, I'll just take her down there myself," I affirm.

"No!" she cries, "Fine, I'll get ready."

"Good."

"But you're going to have to have to watch the baby. Clean her up, she's a mess from breakfast," she murmurs as she leaves the room.

I frown at the small child on the bed staring back at me. Gosh, it's this morning all over again.

"Hey there.." I murmur, my voice unsure.

She doesn't respond- obviously.

I've never actually taken care of a child before. I mean there was Mia, but there would always be an adult there to supervise while I held her or fed her. They would tell me what to do.

But now... it's just me and this little monster.

I guess I should give her a bath. I pick her up, holding her away from my body; I'm still unsure about how to probably hold her. I take her down into the kitchen and start filling up the kitchen sink, making sure to wash it out before I do so. Small babies are supposed to be bathed in the sink right? I don't want to put her in the tub-she could drown.

Or maybe that's only if I put in too much water. How much water would she need? Is the bathtub fine and I'm just overreacting? Jesus, why would I put her in the sink? That is so unsanitary. But she's just a little baby, she can't be that dirty. But she's also kind of big, what if the sink isn't big enough?

I growl and sigh, hitting my head against the cabinet door. This is so frustrating. For once, I'm at a loss. I have no idea what I'm doing, or how to control this situation.

See, this is why I can't be a father. I'd drown my child or drop them within two weeks of having them.

The girl looks back at me, with slight amusement, her mouth turning up at the corners.

"You like that?" I ask, hitting my head on the cabinet again.

This time, her face splits into a full grin, her two front teeth showing. I do it again, and a full blown laugh erupts. Unknowingly I find myself smiling back at her. Once I notice, I frown and shut down, moving over to the sink and turning the water off.

I strip her of her shirt and pants, then stop short when it's time to remove her diaper.

"What the fuck...?" I mutter to myself, utterly confused on what I'm looking at.

Who the fuck invented these? Were they trying to deliberately make them complicated? I squint at the contraption, then finally understand how to take it off. I unwrap the two tabs at the sides, then viola-the diaper is removed.

I smile triumphantly. I did it all on my own.

I test the water to see if it's not too hot or cold, then I place her down into the water slowly. She slips right in without complaints, splashing around in the water contentedly. Her little feet and arms swaying up and down. I almost audibly "aww" at the sight. She looks so.. Cute.

I grimace at my thought. Cute isn't in my vocabulary. I don't recall ever using that word to describe anyone or anything. Not even Ana.

I try to focus on the task at hand and stop thinking crazy things. I realize that I don't know what to wash her with. I can't use dish soap-I wouldn't even wash myself with dish soap-and I don't think I can use my soap. I don't want to irritate her skin. I think Ana has something gentle I can use.

I dash up the stairs, quickly grabbing her products and running back down. I don't want the baby to be left alone for too long. I make it into the kitchen in a timely fashion, and the little monster is still splashing away without a care in the world.

I think I like that nickname. I'm gonna keep it. I can call her Little M for short.

_Why does she need a nickname, Grey? You're getting rid of her today._

For once my subconscious is right. I'm being silly, but I'll call her that until she leaves.

I shake away my notion and start to lather Little M up with Ana's soap, careful not to get it in her mouth or eyes. She doesn't mind at all, and is the first child I've encountered who is comfortable with taking baths.

Well, I haven't encountered many children so my facts might be wrong.

I thank the heavens that Ana's product is a two-in-one shampoo and soap. It makes this whole process much easier. I put a dollop into her brown, curly locks and lather it up. Her hair is quite long for her age. I can only imagine how long it will be when she gets older.

I find that it's just lengthy enough to give her a mohawk. I pull her hair on top of her head, spacing it out and making it pointy. I snicker at her hairdo and she pouts back at me.

I don't think she's amused.

I destroy the mohawk and opt to give her devil horns.

"Look, Little M, now you can be a true monster," I mumble, perfecting her hairdo.

This time she giggles and claps her hands, obviously pleased with the change of hairstyle.

"Ah, yes. It's in your blood," I tease, washing the shampoo out her hair.

I rinse her completely and lift her from the sink. I grab the towel I put down previously by the sink and swath her in it. Before attending to her again, I rinse and clean the sink once she's exited it.

I don't want any sanitary problems.

Once that's done, I lift her up so that we're at eye level.

"All right, Little M. What now?" I ask, not expecting a response back.

I guess I'll have to dress her, but what about diapers and clothes? We don't have any kids, there's not going to be any in the house.

"I bought some Pampers and an outfit for her last night while you went to bed. Don't be angry," Ana announces from the kitchen entrance.

I turn around to see her dressed in a skirt and blouse, her hair still wet from the shower.

"I'm not angry, Ana. The poor child was a mess when we found her last night," I sigh, as Ana walks over to hand me the diaper and outfit. "You want to dress her?"

"No, you can do it," she acquiesces.

I frown, nervously. I think I've already done enough wrong things today. I bathed Little M in a fucking sink, for god's sake. But Ana smiles at me reassuringly, encouraging me to go on. I sigh and start on the process.

First there's the diaper, the second hardest thing to do behind managing your own company. I somehow successfully manage to do that, and I allow myself to do an internal victory dance.

Two things I've done all by myself today.

Then from there on it's a cake walk. I have her dressed in under 30 seconds. I allow myself to give her a small smile. She looks cute in her blouse and pants.

I groan. There's that word again. I roll my eyes. I have to stop saying that.

I hand her back to Ana who looks pleased.

"See, now was that so hard?" She asks.

She cradles Little M and inhales her scent. "You smell amazing," she coos to her, rubbing her head affectionately.

"I think we should go now. We're all ready." I don't know why I feel the need to say it, but it just bursts out of my mouth. I'm shutting down-I can feel it.

This is all too.. raw for me. I'm thinking and feeling unusual things and I don't like it. As soon as I can go back to normalcy I'll feel like myself again.

And I'm dying to feel like myself.

* * *

"Alright, well I'll just go in and tell them our situation. Hopefully they'll be able to figure something out for us," I announce before getting ready to exit the car.

"Wait, Christian. I want to do it. I need to.. make peace with the situation, and I feel like this is the best way to do that."

Ana looks at me, her eyes sad and longing and I can't deny her her wish. Of course I have to let her do this. After all, it does make sense. I nod my head and she smiles before exiting the car and entering the small building. She takes Little M with her.

I feel awkward as I see her go, her bright green eyes peering at me. It feels as if I'm about to lose something as she gets further and further away from me, but I shake away the feeling.

She was never mine to have and was never mine to lose.

I sit in the car, ready to wait patiently for Ana to return. Who knows how long these things could take.

* * *

"Christian, there's papers we need to sign," Ana says, the car door opened slightly so that I could hear her.

She looks anxious. She's fiddling with her hands, her voice unsteady and nervous. I peer at her speculatively, but I don't pay too much attention to it. She's probably just hurt about giving up Little M and wants to get this all over with. I feel quite the same as her-the sooner this is done, the better.

I nod and get out the SUV, following Ana into the modest building. It may be small and under the radar, but Taylor said this was the best agency in Seattle. 90% of the children left in their car are taken into safe and nurturing homes. Ana almost stumbles as we get inside, but I catch her before she falls.

"Are you okay?" I ask, genuinely worried.

"Yeah, I-I'm just.. Waiting to s-see how this goes," she murmurs, pulling out of my grip and rubbing her arms nervously.

I arch an eyebrow at her, but don't question any further. I've been married to Ana for almost three years and she's always been a little weird. That's probably why we get along so great.

"Hello! I'm Mrs. Clarke and I'm going to be your agent today. I'm honored to be able to give this little cutie a great home!" Mrs. Clarke exclaims when we approach her, gesturing to Little M who is playing with some blocks in the play area. "I think it's great that ya'll are being so responsible about this. Every child needs an opportunity to be put in a safe home. So if you three would just follow me into my office we can get this process started!" Mrs. Clarke enthusises, beckoning us to follow her.

I scowl. Mrs. Clarke is just a little too peppy for me, but at least she appreciates what we're doing for Little M.

"Okay, so everyone take a seat and we'll discuss how this is going to work," Mrs. Clarke says.

I sit on the left side, with Ana on my right and Little M in her lap. I get comfortable, knowing that it may take a while before we can leave.

"First off, I'm going to have to contact the authorities to know if this youngin here has any family. That may be hard to find out since she was just left on your doorstep. I assume whoever her guardian is doesn't want custody anymore, but I just want you two to know that beforehand. This process won't be finalized until we know if she has any other family members who she belongs to."

I nod my head, impatiently. Yes, I already knew that. I don't see how that really has to do with us since we're just dropping her off. I didn't even know there was a finalization process for someone to be admitted into an agency.

"Okay, so now that that's settled, I want you guys to know that this is a process that cannot be undone. Once you sign these papers-that's it. She cannot be taken back if you decide you regret this decision. I know how children can mess with your sense of perception. One day you don't want one, then you do."

I nod again. Trust me, we won't be back her to adopt her-no matter how cute Little M is.

Goddamnit, I'm using that word again.

"Also there's an issue of her medical records, there's no way we could-"

"Can you just get on with this? I'm really anxious to get this over with and get on with my life," I bark out.

I don't see why this lady feels the need to tell us all of this irrelevant shit. Once we leave, Little M won't be our problem anymore. Or maybe she's just pissing me off because she's a blonde. I never really felt normal towards them after the whole thing with Mrs. Lincoln.

I shudder.

I much rather not go down that road.

And I'm also annoyed by what the hell is going on with Ana. She's still shaking, her breaths harsh and labored. She looks like she's about to spontaneously combust. Normally, that would turn me on, but now it's just pissing me off.

Mrs. Clarke looks alarmed for a second, confused by my harsh tone, but then she smiles a bright, beaming smile, her whole face lighting up.

"Of course, Mr. Grey. I can see how this is very important to you and Mrs. Grey."

I frown at her delighted smile, but nonetheless ignore her. Obviously, this woman suffers from a caffeine addiction and an outrageous positive outlook on life.

For the duration of my time in Mrs. Clarke's office, I sign when needed, every word she says going into one ear and out the other. I have the urge to just yell at her, _I don't give a fuck about what you're saying! _But I compose myself. I wouldn't want to pre-expose Little M to swear words.

After about two hours, we're finally done with everything. Ana is looking at me with wide, shocked eyes, her mouth gaping open. I scowl at her, confused by her reaction. She looks like someone just murdered her cat right in front of her. I'm sorry that I had to give up Little M, but I told her that would happen.

She should've been prepared.

"Christian, how about you go back to the car and I'll finish up in here?" She asks.

I acquiesce, wanting desperately to get some air. Thank god that's over with. I wave at Little M before leaving, silently wishing her the best luck in life.

She's a cool little kid.

I start up the car and wait for Ana. Not five minutes later, she enters the car.

"Hey, baby, I'm sorry we had to do that, but you know I'm not ready for a kid. I'm so proud of you for being so strong," I turn towards her, finally looking at her for the first time since she's entered the car.

What I see in front of me confuses the shit out of me.

There sits Little M, content and oblivious in Ana's lap, lightly sucking on her thumb.

"Ana... What. The. Fuck...?" I whisper.

"I'm sorry, Christian... I just couldn't let her go." She pleads apologetically, her voice shaking and fearful.

She looks back at me with wide eyes and hands me the large stack of papers I signed, not even ten minutes ago. I grunt and rub my hands against my face harshly. Maybe I should've listened more carefully to Mrs. Clarke, but I'm used to ignoring people. Hell, I do that everyday in meetings.

In my lap sits a stack of papers entitled:

**ADOPTION PAPERS: TEMPORARY FORMS**

***FINALIZATION TBA***

Fuck.

Now how am I supposed to get out of this?

* * *

**_My mom used to bathe me in the kitchen sink. It's totally safe and sanitary.  
_****_Thanks for reading.  
_****_I also don't know how adoption processes go, and I'm too lazy to look it up-don't kill me.  
_****_Review.  
_****_XoxO_**


	3. Isolated

I can't even process the events that have taken place the last few days. The last few hours, even. I am a billionaire, the owner and founder of my own company. I'm a CEO, my IQ is 132, I can destroy people with just a stare.. But I can't read a piece of fucking paper? Since when did I become lazy, since when did I just rush through things-do things half-assed?

Stupid, stupid, stupid! If I had just dedicated two point five seconds to read what I was blindly signing, I wouldn't even be in this situation. But look at me, being a fuck-up just like always!

I pull at my hair, almost to the point of ripping it out. I can't believe this. I can't believe Ana would do something like this! Hell, I can't believe I fell for it. I almost laugh, Ana has become quite the little devil these past years.

I guess she learns from the best.

Maybe I deserve this. All of the manipulating and scheming I did to get her to obey me. This is payback, perhaps? The saying is too true for words.

Payback really is a bitch.

But then.. Do I only have myself to blame? This is equally Ana's fault as much it is mines. What she did was wrong. It was low, unfair, selfish, and wrong. I didn't know she had it in her to do something like this. Could she really be that desperate for a child?

I don't see what for. Children are.. a nuisance. They're hard to understand, confusing, extremely susceptible to.. damage. Does she not see what she is getting Little M into right now? I'm Fifty Shades of fucked up-hell, she coined that phrase. Has she not learned anything these past few years? How difficult I am, how broken, how much trouble and pain I've put her through?

I thank my lucky stars that Ana hasn't left me after all the things I've done. For some reason, she loves me, and I'm definitely not complaining. But if I could manage to hurt her so many times.. Can you imagine what I would do to a child?

They're so easy to mess up. I fuck up every day of my life, I make so many mistakes when it comes to dealing with.. emotions, and trying to treat people the right way. I've gone so long with being cold and hard, hiding everything from every one. I had even shut out my own mother, the woman who saved me from hell. I can't deal with feelings.. and compassion and shit like that.

Isn't that what little fuc-I mean kids need? They need someone stable to take care of them.. and I'm the complete opposite of stable. I'm unstable. As unstable as they come. I have a therapist for fucks sake!

God, Ana why are you doing this to me? Why couldn't you just respect my wishes? Now you're forcing me to be someone I'm not, trying to mold me into playing the role of a father. I can't do that, dammit!

I feel like I'm fifteen again. Trying to be the perfect little poster child. Trying to fit in and be just like my perfect little family. The boy next door.

Well I'm not that.

I'm not normal, or perfect, or okay.

And I'm sure as hell never going to be a dad.

* * *

"Christian, please talk to me? It's been a week.." I whisper, my voice soft and pained.

When it comes to problems, I'm the one Christian comes to. I am the one person that he can count on to express himself without judgement. I'm the one person he trusts.

But now..

He won't even look at me. He goes to work, comes home, does more work, then goes to sleep. He won't talk to me, won't touch me..

I hold back a sob. I'm dying inside, feeling the hurt and pain of rejection flooding my body. Do you know what it feels like to be denied by someone you love so completely? By someone who owns you mind, body, and soul?

It feels like hell. As If I've been doomed to an eternity of suffering and pain.

I'm such an idiot. I just couldn't leave things alone. I needed a child, I was so desperate that I completely disregarded what Christian wanted and only cared about my own wishes.

_Isn't that what Christian was doing to you? Denying you a child when that's the only thing you ever asked of him? Denying you because he only cared about what you wanted.._

My thoughts actually hold truth to them.. But I'm partially to blame, right? I shouldn't have betrayed him like that. I blatantly told him that we were giving Little M up.. and then I tricked him into keeping her.. forever. Whether he likes it or not, we're stuck with her, and It's all my fault.

I feel sick and guilty.. but I couldn't just let her go. I was not going to drop her off with those strangers, abandoning her just like her parents did. Leaving her there to possibly get adopted by some child molester, or a soon-to-be alcoholic. The possibilities were endless as to what could go wrong. I needed to know that she would grow up in a loving, healthy, safe environment. And I know that with me... she would.

I shouldn't be ashamed of what I did-maybe of the way I went about it, but to be ashamed of saving her and giving her a home? That I would never regret.

"Christian, I'm your wife. You can't just ignore me forever," I plead.

It's as if my words have no meaning to have, as If I hadn't said anything at all. Christian continues to work, his head down into the papers he's looking at. Is he going to keep this up forever? Is he going to ignore me for the whole time Little M is here? Is he going to.. throw away our marriage at this?

"Dammit, Christian! Fine, ignore me then. Is that what you want? To be alone, wallow in your anger and hatred towards me? Go ahead, then. Me and Little M can leave, just say the word!"

I don't think I would have the strength to leave him, but he doesn't know that. I just need him to open up to me, to talk to me. Yell, shout, throw things, I don't care! I just need him to at least show that he cares enough to do something. To show that he's still himself.

Christian closes his eyes, taking a long, slow deep breath in response to my words. He clenches and unclenches his fists, trying to stay calm. After a while, he continues to go back to his work.

I want to scream, or at least pull my hair out. God, he is being so frustrating! I know he's stubborn, but this is just taking it too far. He's ripping me apart. Every moment he spends avoiding me, a little part of me dies. How can he be so calm with being away from me.. Does he really hate me that much?

In that moment, I just can't take it anymore. I break down, surrendering to the tears and sobs I have bottled up this past week, and finally allow myself to let my feelings take control. Christian's eyes snap to mine, his face looking alert.. and concerned. Maybe there is hope left for us, or maybe my blurred vision is making me imagine things.

I can't stand the distance between us anymore and I walk around his desk, crawling into his lap.

"D-don't hate me," I sob out.

I cry into the crook of his neck, my tears soaking his shirt. I hope he doesn't mind, I don't need another reason for him to be upset with me.

"I don't hate you.." he whispers, so quite I almost couldn't hear it.

My head snaps up, shocked by him finally talking after all these days. I missed the sound of his voice, and his body against mine. Being with him is home for me. This past week felt like I was drifting out at sea, all alone.

"Then why are you acting like this?" I sob.

"I'm acting like this because I'm pissed, Ana. Really fucking pissed. You betrayed me, broke my trust, and now you're forcing me to be something I'm not," he states, his voice eerily level and calm.

Is he trying to control his temper, or has mastered it and is really this calm? I don't know which one it is, which is causing me to freak out even more. Although, his words make me feel guiltier and even more upset.

"I know, Christian, but don't you realize you've only been thinking about yourself all these years? We don't have a child because _you _don't want one. We hardly see your family because _you _distance yourself away from them. I work from home because _you _think it's better this way. I''m not happy because _you _keep controlling what happens in our life!"

I clamp my hand over my mouth, horrified at what I just said.

_Am I really not happy..?_

Christian is equally as shocked, his eyes the size of saucers, his mouth ajar. Despite his horrified expression, he looks.. Hurt. Guilty. Pained.

"Are you really not happy?" He whispers.

"No, of course I am. I didn't mean it like that," I say, but I'm not sure it's as convincing as I want it to be.

"You want this that bad? You're really that unhappy because we're not parents?"

"Yes, Christian! This is the only thing I've asked of you. I've done everything you wanted me to do because I want to make you happy, and the one thing I want you to do, you don't.  
I believe in you, Christian, whether you think you're worthy or not. I know you can be a good father, you just have to allow yourself to try.  
I know your childhood was rough, but that doesn't define you. You're strong, you turned yourself around.  
You didn't allow yourself to fall into a destructive life, you changed. You became a successful CEO, a great husband.. A loving husband. And I know you can be a father too."

I grab his face in between my hands, pleading with him to believe what I'm saying. I know he has horrible self-abhorence, but I would never lie to him... except for that one time last week.. And he knows how much I believe in him. I wouldn't encourage him to do this if he wasn't ready, and I know he is ready. He just needs to know that.

He doesn't respond, he just stares, his face looking unsure and scared. My heart breaks. Why can't he see what I and everyone else sees? Why doesn't he notice how good of a person he is?

"Think about it this way, Christian. You spend your every day life signing and reading over contracts. You were just doing it a few minutes ago! Don't you think that you would've read what you were signing last week? Don't you think you would have noticed?"

Christian sighs and nods, his eyes going hard. I'm not trying to make him angry, he just needs to know what I'm about to say.

"Then why didn't you?" I continue, "Why didn't you read it? It doesn't make sense, right? One of the most important things you would sign during your lifetime, something that defines another person's life.. Why would you not read it? It's easy, because you want to keep Little M," I say, gauging his reaction.

Christian gasps, his face scrunching up in disbelief.

"Bullshit, I'm not ready," he counters, sounding affronted.

"Yes, you are! Subconsciously, whether you want to believe it or not.. You want her, you want to be a father. There's no explanation for it. I've seen you with her, you're so gentle and loving. Would you treat someone like that if you had no intentions of keeping them?" I argue.

"Yes, I would treat someone like that, it's called compassion, Ana. Just because I took care of her doesn't mean I want her for the rest of her life!"

"But it means you feel something, at least. When you first met me did you want to marry me? No, you just wanted to fuck me," Christian shudders, "but that feeling eventually turned into love. You could grow to love Little M. I think I already have..." I whisper the last part.

Christian closes his eyes, his breathing rough and unsteady. He gently pushes me off his lap, standing up to look out the window inside his study.

"Ana... I can't do this right now. We'll talk later.." He says softly, his voice detached, and I know in that moment that I've lost him and that this conversation is over.

"Okay, Christian. But you can't keep thinking so negatively about yourself. I know you're going to be a great dad..."

He doesn't answer, so I leave the room, shutting the door quietly behind me.

* * *

I tiptoe in the room, making sure not to make a sound. The walls are a soft, pale pink, the color shining even in the dark room. I think a bright green would've better suited her, but pale pink it is. I don't know how they managed to make up this room in only a week, but I've been out of it these past few days. I wouldn't have noticed if a tornado flew around the room.

I feel like shit, I've been shutting out the very person who loves me the most, but I just can't be around her right now. I love her, but my anger is too strong. I'm trying not to become that person I was two years ago-I don't know what I would do. I don't want to hit her, or hurt her. I'm done with that, that's not how you show someone love.

I shouldn't be this mad, but I am. I'm mad at her, I'm mad at myself, I'm mad at the world. I shouldn't be. There's millions of people out there not capable of having children, and here I am complaining about being a dad. I wish I could be normal, then I would be able to enjoy this.

But I'm not normal, so why try?

I sit in a rocking chair across for her crib, watching her sleep. She reminds me of Ana, even though they look nothing alike. Maybe except for the hair..

But her personality is Ana in a nutshell. She doesn't whine, has the cutest giggle- _there's that word again_, and for some reason she seems to.. like me. I have no idea why, however.

I don't know how they can be drawn to someone like me, I'm a beast... and they're the beauties.

_Beauty and the Beast.. Belle.._

I gasp, Belle.

Belle.

That's her name. Well, the name I'm going to give her. It fits. Perfectly.

I move over to stand over her crib, looking at her peaceful face. She's sleeping so deeply, is that normal? I thought babies were supposed to be light sleepers. I stay there, marveling over her. Am I mad at her? No, she didn't have anything to do with this. Am I mad that she's her? Yes. But as I continue to look at her.. I don't think I'm capable of being mad anymore.

How could I? She's innocent, and she's been abused. I should feel guilty over the fact of even turning her away. I don't know what I would do if Carrick told Grace to give me up.. And it dawns on me that I was so quick to disregard her, when I was once in her exact same spot.

"I'm sorry.." I whisper, even though she can't hear me.

However, her eyes snap open, the green pupils wide and alert. Jesus, I guess babies _are _light sleepers.

"Hello," I murmur. "Sorry for waking you."

She doesn't make any sounds, just continues to stare. I stare back at her. I don't know how long we continue the starring contest, but suddenly her small, chubby arms reach up towards me.

I think that's baby language for _"pick me up."_

"Oh, no.. I don't think that's so good. I'm not very steady.." I reason, as If she's even understand what I'm saying right now.

She continues to hold her arms up, her fists clenching and unclenching, I refuse to oblige, though. I don't even know how to properly hold her.

After a moment of her continued failed advances, she lets out a loud wail, her lower lip quiver.

_I keep making people cry today..._

Oh, God. See, I didn't even have to touch her and I already messed up. She continues to cry, her wails getting louder and more urgent. Now what am I supposed to do?

"Okay.. shh.. Please don't wake up Ana," I plead, but it doesn't work.

It's the first time I've heard her cry, other than when she's hungry or if her diaper's dirty. I wonder what I could have possibly done wrong.

"Please, stop crying, Belle," I whisper, finally reaching into the crib and gently scooping her up.

I hesitate for a moment, wondering how to do this, but finally pull her to my chest. I tense, but then relax. Usually, Ana is the only person who touches me there, but this is tolerable. Belle makes an appreciative sound, her cries finally ceasing.

So what am I supposed to do now? Do I like.. shake her to sleep or something? Pace the room, or do I just stand here? Belle doesn't seem to be uncomfortable, she just lies contentedly, sucking her thumb.

I didn't notice she did that.

_Yeah, that's because you've been ignoring her this whole week!_

I decide to pace anyway, because I find myself becoming bored just standing here. I hum a song I was playing earlier on the piano, the tune still stuck in my head. Belle coos, obviously liking the sound. I continue to pace and hum until the melody is over, finally halting my movements and sounds.

She looks at me, her face bewildered. It's as if she's yelling, _why did you stop?! _She wails again, obviously wanting me to continue. I roll my eyes and pace again, starting the melody over.

She coos again and I scoff.

"You really _are _a princess," I murmur dryly.

She makes a sound, which oddly sounds like agreement, and I find myself grinning.

* * *

**_Belle isn't the conventional baby, as you all will see. Thank you for the support, and please keep reviewing._**

**_xX_**

**_P.S. if I have sentences that don't make sense, or have spelling/grammar mistakes, it's because I'm too lazy to proofread. Sorry._**


	4. Revealed

_**I missed last weeks update because I was completely overwhelmed with work. Sorry. I'm also working on a new story.**_

* * *

I woke up with Belle in my arms, her small body cradled to my chest. Despite my perplextion on how we got into this position, my back is throbbing from the hard and uncomfortable wood of the rocking chair.

_How the hell does Ana sit in this?_

Belle is still sleeping, so I slowly and carefully put her back into her crib. Gosh, this whole ordeal has made me.. uncomfortable. I've never really been this intimate with children, excluding Mia of course. I feel.. Different.

I shake it off, not wanting to really focus on this too much. I notice that dim sunlight is peeking through Belle's curtains, so it must be early in the morning. I wander up the hallway towards mine and Ana's room, where she is still sleeping peacefully.

I stand by the doorway, taking a few moments to watch her sleep-one of my favorite past times, by the way. She looks beautiful as always, but for the first time I notice the bags under her eyes and how pale she looks.

_Jesus._

Where the hell was I when she started looking like _this?_

_Somewhere off sulking and being an asshole.._

I feel guilty. I now realize how much pain I've put her through, and throughout it all I haven't even helped her with Belle or with virtually anything else.

_But this is her fault.._

Yeah, it is.. But is it really something I should keep dwelling on? I can't undo it, there's no possible way. We have Belle unless someone comes to claim her, which is highly unlikely.. So I guess I should just.. Grow up.

_Holy shit._

I've just had an epiphany.

This whole time I've been worried about being too fucked up to be a father.. But maybe I'm just not ready to leave behind what I'm used to.

I began that.. Sordid relationship with Elena because I was used to being treated like shit and getting beat. I wasn't used to anything else and to be honest, I didn't want to learn anything else. I didn't want to leave what was familiar to me.

I almost lost Ana once because I refused to try something new. I just _had _to insist on the type of relationships I had always had. I shudder at the memory. I can't believe I actually _beat _her..

I grimace and push the thought away.

_That's not me anymore.._

And now it's the same thing. Yeah, I'll probably be an.. Average-ha!-father.. But I could still be one. I'm just used to being too damaged for anyone to ever love me.. Or to ever love someone else.

I look at Ana, her chest rising and falling softly, her long locks surrounding her face and I know that she's the reason I even had this sudden clarity. She's made me see life in a different way. She brought me out the dark. She made me semi-normal.

Yes, I'm still damaged, but lately.. It doesn't show as much. Lately, I've felt human, but I was too crowded by my refusal to accept change to realise that I'm not as horrible as some people. I'm not as horrible as that bastard who burned Belle-a swell of rage surges through me. Gosh, I could _kill _them for that.

What sick, disgusting fuck would burn a baby? She's not even a year old for gods sake! My hands ball into fists and it boggles my mind how people could be so horrible. Yeah, I've beaten people, but never without their consent. Never past what they could handle. _Never _to purposely cause them damage.

I used to think I was like the crack who-I mean my _mother's _pimp, but.. No, I don't really think I am. At least not to that extent.

"You wanna join me?"

I jump, so absorbed in my thoughts that I hadn't noticed that Ana had awoken.

_Oh, yeah.. She's a light sleeper. _

She still looks worn out and I quickly except her offer, making my way over to the bed and climbing in. I envelop her into my arms and bask in the feel of her skin against mine. I can't believe I missed out on this because I was too absorbed in my own petulance.

"I miss you, I love you, I'm sorry.." I whisper, kissing the top of her head, squeezing her tighter against me.

She squeezes me too, nuzzling her face in my chest. A while ago, I would've pushed her away, but now I pull her closer.

"There's no need to apologize, Christian. I was never mad. I love you too," she replies, softly.

I kiss her, finally feeling complete. I missed this. I really, really did. Our hands wander each other's bodies, savoring each other and everything is normal again.

* * *

I can't control the grin permanently etched onto my face. Ros cannot fathom why I'm so happy at five-thirty am, in a boring conference call with some foreign potential partners. I hear everything they're saying, I respond when needed to, but I can't stop thinking about this morning.

Sex will do that to men. Especially when you've refrained for a week. To normal people that doesn't seem like much, but when you're used to nightly affairs that's a... long time. A very, very long time-for me, at least. Ana is a drug for me, every dose I have just makes me want more.

I keep replaying the scene over and over in my head, each time more vivid than the last. I'm quite surprised how I can focus on mergers and acquisitions while also envisioning the porno going on inside my brain.

"Okay, what the hell is wrong with you?" Ros asks after our call is finally over.

"Nothing wrong, it's what right that's on my mind," I chuckle.

"I don't even wanna know.." She calls behind her shoulder as she exits the room, shutting the door quietly.

We should try something new tonight. Maybe the playroom? Something involving food?

_That could be fun.._

Then I remember Belle. My shoulders slump, all desireable thoughts being blown out of my head. Right, babies mean no sex.

I grimace, sullen.

Who knows how long it'll take for her to get to sleep. I don't know if she's one of those stubborn ones who deliberately stay up knowing that you really want them to sleep. I haven't exactly been around when she's being put to bed. That's been Ana's job the past week.

Now that I notice, I basically don't know anything about Belle. Except that shes delightfully cute, (there's that word again..) likes to take baths in sinks, and that she feels comfortable around me and Ana.

My phone buzzes in my shirt pocket and I quickly retrieve it.

_Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear.._

I see Ana's name pop up on my phone screen and I quickly answer, glad to be able to hear her voice even though I was just with her two hours ago.

"Hi, baby," I say.

"Hi," she chokes out.

I grimace at her voice. Jesus Christ, she sounds horrible. Her voice is raspy and strained. She sounds like a croaking, dead parrot.

"You okay, baby?" I ask, concerned. I've never heard her sound this bad.

"I'm fine, I'm just so tired from working and taking care of Lena at the same time," she croaks. "We've been piled with a ton of new authors getting ready to be published, and Lena, God she won't stop crying," she exclaims.

I faintly hear a baby's wail in the background.

_That would drive me crazy... and who is Lena?_

"Who's Lena?" I ask, amusedly. It seems like this child has five different names.

"The baby, Christian. Who else?" She snaps.

"Someones grouchy," I mutter. "And I've kind of been calling her Belle in my head.." I admit.

"Oh.." she replies, surprised. "Belle.. I like that, Christian. I like that a lot. Belle it is," she acquieces.

"Okay, now that she finally has one name, what can I do to help?" I ask.

"Oh! Right, I completely forgot for a second.." she trails off. "Um, she has a doctors check up. The agency said it would be beneficial to see if she suffers from any disorders since we don't have much information on her."

"Okay.. And?"

"Can you take her?" She asks. "I would do it myself but my head hurts so bad and I keep throwing up and I feel like my stomach is about to fall out my ass it hurts so bad and light is hurting my eyes-"

"Ana, calm down," I interrupt her ramblings. "Where is Mrs. Jones? Shouldn't she be helping with Belle?"

"She's horribly sick, Christian. She's throwing up too. I think we both have some sort of stomach bug and I don't want Belle to get sick.."

I sigh. I guess there's no one else to do this but me. Unless Taylor does, but.. I don't think this type of thing is in his job description.

"Okay, baby, I'll take her. I'm free this afternoon so it shouldn't be a problem."

"Oh, thank you. God, I just need some rest."

"Yes, you really do. You sound god-awful," I tease.

"Well don't you know how to make a lady feel good about herself," she says sarcastically.

"I'm just teasing, darling. Get some rest, okay? I don't you want feeling horrible for too long."

"Will do, babe."

* * *

I wonder if I look as uncomfortable as I feel. Every other parent in the waiting room is giving me the stink eye, their expressions just yelling out, "keep your damn kid, quiet!"

Well if I could do that, I would've done it by now.

Belle has cried the whole way here, not stopping even when I tried to sing to her.

I actually don't blame her for that one, my singing isn't that special.

I'm a little worried about her excessive crying, who knows what kind of strain she is putting on her voice. She's gonna end up with a husky voice for the rest of her life if she makes a habit out of this. Not that that's necessarily a bad thing, some men find that extremely sexy.

I scowl, thinking of men thinking of Belle..

Nevermind, that _is _a bad thing.

"Belle?" The nurse calls out to the waiting room.

I stand up with a still-wailing Belle and hurry away from the bitchy parents and their dirty looks. I mentally give them the finger. They were once fussy children too.

"Okay, so Mr. Grey what seems to be the problem with this little cutie?" The nurse asks, cooing at Belle.

She still doesn't stop crying.

The nurses' name appears to be Peggy.

Ugh, I hate that name. It sounds so.. Ugh.

"Nothing, really other than her crying. I came here today for a physical. I want to see how she's developing. We just adopted her and we don't have many medical records.." I admit, embarrassed.

I sound stupid adopting a child I know nothing about, but then I realize that _Ana _did that and not I. But it doesn't really make a difference-I'm still stupid in many different ways.

"Okay, Sir.." She replys. I can hear the judgement in her voice.

See, this is why I'm not a people person.

I give her a dirty look of my own, and she immediately wilts underneath the stare. It's been a while since I've done that. It feels quite refreshing, actually.

"Let's start this, shall we?" I ask, harshly.

She just nods, blushing.

I'm gonna get back into the habit of using that stare again. My next victims will most definitely be the parents back in the waiting room.

* * *

"Development wise, she is doing perfectly fine. Physical wise.. I'm not so sure," Dr. Nguyen explains. Peggy is long gone, she disappeared shortly after I gave her my famous glare.

"She is a smart and extremely aware child," he gestures to Belle who has finally quieted down, "which is a good thing. However, she is underweight and shows extreme signs of abuse."

I nod, sullenly. _That, _I am aware of.

"Her previous guardians were obviously not taking good enough care of her, which has affected her physical development. Based on her awareness and intelligence, she is most definitely at least a year old, but she appears as if she is only seven months."

I gape. Jesus..

"Her body has been deprived of calcium and other nutrients that it vitally needs to develop properly. It's as if she's been surviving on candy her whole life. She hasn't begun walking yet has she?" He asks.

I shake my head no.

He tsks. "Children can begin walking around the early age of nine months, Christian. Belle is horribly behind."

"Well, what can I do to help?"

"You can't reverse the damage already done, but you can get her on a balanced and carefully planned out diet. She needs as much nutrients as possible to get her back on track. She also might need a follow up on the physical signs of abuse on her body. This could affect her mental health extremely later on down the road."

I nod, my insides feeling hollow for this poor child who didn't deserve any of this.

* * *

"Hi, baby," Ana gushes as I make my way through the door, but she isn't speaking to me.

She scoops Belle out of my arms, twirling her around and kissing her cheeks. Belle giggles and clings tightly to Ana. I roll my eyes.

She's never been that enthusiastic to see me.

"You sound better," I mumble.

"I finally got some rest. The nausea has settled too. I guess it was only a twenty-four hour bug."

I nod, watching Ana and Belle as they grin adoringly at each other.

"So what did the doctor say?" She asks, turning towards me.

I run my hands over my face and sigh. I've been so wound up after that visit. How am I supposed to cope knowing that another child has been just as abused as I have, maybe even worse? Especially someone as pure as Belle. It's like someone abusing Ana.. I bang my fists on the table, once again feeling rage.

_Control your temper.._

Ana jumps, her face perplexed.

"What's wrong, Christian?" She asks, her voice laced with evident worry.

"Belle is so behind when it comes to physical development, Ana. She's a year old and look at her," I reply.

Ana's eyes widen. She is just as stunned and affected as I am.

"That's horrible.."

"I know. I know."

"What are we gonna do, Christian?" She questions, her voice breaking.

"Give her a 'balanced and carefully planned out' diet and a 'follow up on the physical signs of abuse on her body'" I reply.

She nods, much like I did an hour ago. I wonder if she feels as hollow inside as I did.

* * *

_**I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter. It's definitely not my favorite out of this whole story, but you tell me.**_

_**Review.**_

_**Xx**_

_**P.S. Next chapter we'll find out why Belle lapses into bouts of extreme crying. Can you guess the reason?**_

_**P.P.S Is perplextion even a grammatically correct word?**_


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